The Pony Caper
by MaverickLover2
Summary: A beautiful blonde shows up at Stu's front door but she comes with a lot of baggage. One husband is dead and the other is serving a life sentence . . .and Stu helped put him away. Can he believe anything she says? And what if she's telling the truth and she's a prime candidate for murder?
1. Chapter 1

The Pony Caper

Chapter 1

Stu got up from the couch to answer the knock on the door. He wasn't inclined to do so; it had been a long, hard day at the office and he'd just sat down with a drink. It couldn't be his partner; Jeff had a key. He was most pleasantly surprised when he opened the door and found a tall, leggy blonde leaning on the doorframe. "Mr. Bailey?"

"Oh, I certainly hope so," he quipped. She gave him a puzzled look and he got serious. "Yes, I am. Mr. Bailey, I mean. And you are . . . ?"

"In serious danger of being killed. May I come in?"

"Certainly, Miss?"

"Harper. Nina Harper. And it's Mrs. But Mr. Harper is dead. What is that?" She asked, pointing at his drink.

"A Vodka Gimlet." He'd no sooner gotten the words out of his mouth than she took the glass from his hand and drank it straight down.

"Would you like another, Mrs. Harper?"

"I'd love one, Mr. Bailey. Please call me Nina. And you should fix one for yourself, since I drank yours."

"Alright, Nina. And it's Stu or Stuart. Won't you have a seat?"

The invitation was a little late, seeing that Nina Harper was already sitting on his couch, right next to where he'd been. He shook his head to clear it of the cobwebs and started thinking of the questions he had for her. Then he took another look at her. A good look. She was almost as tall as he was, with short blonde hair that she wore in a bob. Nina Harper was maybe thirty or thirty-one, with a good figure and a better face.

"You're probably wondering why I showed up at your apartment. I went to your office, but you were already gone. When I told your partner why I wanted to see you, he made a phone call and then gave me your address."

"Any particular reason why he didn't call me to warn . . . uh, to let me know that you were coming?"

"I asked him not to, Stu. Thank you," this as he handed her the glass.

"Why would you do that, Nina?"

"Because I was afraid you wouldn't see me." This time she sipped her drink. Stu sat at the other end of the couch and watched her. He was trying to determine why he wouldn't see her. He shook his head as he looked at her again. Nope, he couldn't think of a single earthly reason why he'd refuse to see someone that looked like that. He pulled out his cigarette case and offered the cigarettes. She took one and waited for him to light it. He obliged her.

Alright, guessing game done. "Why wouldn't I see you, Nina?"

"Before I was married to Dennis Harper, I was married to Al LaCosta."

Ah, now he understood. Al LaCosta was currently incarcerated in San Quentin State Prison for the murder of Harry Dowling. Stu and Harry had worked together during the war, and the private detective had testified against Al at his trial. LaCosta was serving life with no possibility of parole. "Well, that's some pedigree you've given me. Still, you had the good sense to divorce Al. I'm assuming you divorced Al."

"I did. And the troubles not coming from Al. At least, I don't think it's coming from Al. It's coming from the late, great, squeaky clean Mr. Harper."

"Ah, Mr. Harper wasn't as squeaky as you thought he was?"

"Evidently not. Dennis had a gambling problem I didn't know about. And the inability to bet on the ponies with his own money."

"I see. Whose money was he using?"

"I don't know. Well, I don't know all of it. He 'borrowed' some from Jake Conti, then he borrowed more from Luie Rizzo to pay Conti back, then he borrowed from Stan Gallo to pay Rizzo back. Only he didn't pay Rizzo back. Or Gallo."

"Let me guess. They expect you to pay them."

She fluttered her eyelashes and looked downcast. "Dennis left me some money, but not enough to take care of either of the debts. Can I have another drink, Stu?" She held out her glass enticingly.

"What? Oh, sure." He reached for her glass and got her hand instead, which she let linger under his fingers for just a little too long. Was this serious work, or was this play time? He had to figure out what she really wanted. "Nina, if you know who all the players are in this game, why do you need me?"

"That's just it. I don't know who's after me. I only know that somebody cut my brake line, and my apartment was broken into. They trashed practically everything I owned, like that would get them somewhere. And they left this for me."

She dug inside her purse and produced a note, which she handed to him. Stu read it over twice before giving it back to her. The note left little room for doubt. _'Pay your husband's debt or suffer the consequences.'_

"What is it you want me to do?"

Again, with the eyelashes. "I want you to find out who's trying to kill me. And convince them I don't have any money."

He handed her back her drink and her fingers caressed his before he let go of the glass. "You know my fee is one-hundred a day plus expenses? If you don't have any money, how are you going to pay that?"

"Oh, that," she shrugged it off as if it was nothing. "I've got money for that. I just don't have the money Dennis owed."

Once again he offered the cigarette case, and once again she accepted. He lit hers, then his, and blew a long cloud of smoke out. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. "When did they break into your apartment?"

"This afternoon. That's why I went looking for you. I can't go back there, Stu. I just can't." There was a hint of pleading in Nina's voice that hadn't been there before.

"No," he said. Then more emphatically, "No." He blew out more smoke before telling her, "Give me the key to your apartment and the address. You stay here and don't let anybody in. I want to see if they left anything that might tell us who they are."

She'd set her drink down on the coffee table and ran her hands up the front of his shirt. She ended up with her arms around his neck. "You will be careful, won't you?"

He reached up and removed her hands and gave her his best professional smile. "I'm always careful. It's my partner that tends to be reckless. Remember now, don't let anyone in."

She nodded her head and retreated to the couch. Whatever game of seduction she was playing hadn't worked – for now. Stu checked his gun for bullets, then put on his shoulder holster and his jacket. The gun was fully loaded. Good. She scribbled her address on the back of the note and handed it to him, along with her key. She was much more believable now that she wasn't trying to do what? Seduce him? But why? A woman that looked like that didn't have to try so hard.

He turned his attention back to Nina. "Sit tight. I'll be back."


	2. Chapter 2

The Pony Caper

Chapter 2

Stu looked at the address Nina had scribbled on the back of the note. 432A Benedict Canyon Drive, Beverly Hills. It figured. When she said Harper had left her 'something,' Stu added four or five zeros to whatever the amount was. And she said this was an apartment? No doubt she left out the word 'penthouse' when she called it an apartment. 432 was the entire building; Stuart parked his car and checked the mailboxes. He was right, it was the penthouse. The elevator didn't empty out into the apartment, but into something that looked like the waiting room in a doctor's office. There was an actual front door to the apartment with a lock on it.

He pulled out the key she'd given him and slipped it in the lock. The door opened to a residence that looked like a tornado had rampaged through it. Tables were turned upside down, plants were pulled from their pots, curtains were ripped from their curtain rods and lay puddled on the floor.

It was even worse in the bedroom. The bed was torn apart, every single drawer in both the dresser and armoire had been unceremoniously emptied, and all of the clothes in the closet were thrown on the floor. Stu spent almost fifteen minutes searching for the phone before he found it. He dialed a familiar number and it was answered on the third ring. "Flashdance in the fourth at Belmont. This is Roscoe."

"Roscoe, it's Stu. I've got a job for you. Find out all you can about a player named Dennis Harper. Who he owes, how much he owes them, and where his wife got the penthouse apartment she's living in on Benedict Canyon Drive. Call me at the office in the morning."

"Do you know what time it is, Stu?"

"Since when has it mattered what time of the day or night it was? The people you know don't sleep anyway. I'll see you in the morning." Stu hung up the phone and put it back where he thought it might belong.

He tried looking through the disaster that was Nina Harper's apartment but couldn't find anything that might give him more information. Whoever it was that trashed the place had done a fine job. But what were they looking for, and had they found it? Stu finally gave up in sheer exhaustion and left the place, locking the door behind him. He wanted nothing more than to go home, take a hot bath, and go to sleep. Every bone in his body ached from the set-to he'd had earlier in the day with a jealous husband who got the wrong idea and refused to listen to reason. What was he going to do with Nina Harper? Normally he'd have a fine idea of what he could do with her, but he was even too tired for that. With any luck she'd be as tired as he was and he could convince her to take the bed, and he could snuggle down with a blanket and the couch.

He drove home just as fast as Pacific Coast Highway would take him and was happy when he saw his apartment building. He had a speech all prepared for Nina and was going to start it just as soon as he got inside. He walked in the door calling, "Nina! Nina!" but there was no answer. He checked the whole apartment; there was no sign of her. It was almost as if she'd never been there . . . except somebody had missed a clue. There were two glasses on the end table, and one of them had lipstick on it. "Definitely not my shade," Stu muttered to himself. He would go out and look for her, but he had no idea where to begin. Besides, if he didn't get some sleep soon he'd be non-functional. He grabbed the blanket from the chair, kicked off his shoes and curled up on the couch. Easier to hear her if she came back, he told himself as he drifted off to sleep.

XXXXXXXX

A cup of coffee and a bran muffin later, accompanied by eight hours of sleep, gave him a whole new perspective on the day. After a shower and a shave he got dressed, feeling almost human again. He washed the glasses and straightened the living room, then headed downstairs for his car. He spent the time driving to his office running through all the scenarios of where Nina could have disappeared to last night. Most of them weren't good.

He collected his messages from Suzanne and checked them over as he got to his office. Nothing from Nina or Roscoe. There were two he had to call; while he was finishing up the second Roscoe came in. He perched on the edge of Stu's desk and waited.

"What have you got, Roscoe?"

"My Dream Girl in the fourth at Santa Anita. Other than that, not a whole lot yet."

Stu smirked. Roscoe's greetings were a whole different language, and you either had to speak it or ignore it. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

"So far, all I got is Dennis Harper was a heavy player, and he had a couple of big loans outstanding. The Benedict Canyon apartment was Mrs. Harper's before she became Mrs. Harper. Still checking on both of them."

"Alright, Roscoe, keep me updated."

Stu had another source that he could check, but he had to do it in person. And there was a stop he had to make for Jeff, his partner, who was in San Francisco on another case. "Suzanne, I'll be back later."

Once in his car, he stopped at the Zody's store on La Cienega. The firm had done some investigating for the parent company, and the case had been resolved so successfully that a previously agreed upon bonus check was waiting for them. It was a payment the company was glad to make; Bailey & Spencer had saved them several million dollars. That taken care of, Stu wound his way through the streets of Los Angeles until he reached the diamond district. His next destination was on the top floor of the building that was known simply as 'the diamond building', in a little store with the name 'Sol's ' on the window. Stu rang the bell out front and an unseen hand buzzed the door open. "Sol, it's Stuart."

A smiling, jovial man came rushing out. He had thick, dark hair and a full beard the same shade, but his eyes danced with mirth. "Stuart!" he cried with delight. "It is such a joy to see you! You came to visit, yes?"

"Sorry, Uncle Sol, I came on business."

The little man sighed and the brightness in his eyes dimmed as they clouded over. "Business, always business. You promised last time you'd come for just a visit, but here you are again on business. It is a good thing your parents aren't here to see this. They would tell you how disappointed they were."

"In Russian, no doubt."

"What else? You make me a promise this time, next time you break it, I don't do business with you again."

Stu hung his head, but there was a grin on his face. "You drive a hard bargain, Uncle Sol."

"Alright, what is this business you need?"

"I need everything you can tell me about Luie Rizzo and Stan Gallo." Stu wasn't prepared for the kind of reaction he got from Sol.

"Ach! I spit on them," and Sol did just that.

There was only one thing that could cause Sol to act that way. "They owe you money?"

"Both of them. But if you borrow from them and don't pay them . . . you know what happens." Bailey was well acquainted with their handiwork.

"Why haven't they paid you?" Stu asked Sol. He was almost sure of the answer.

"Because somebody named Harper was into them for over six figures, and Harper died. They're trying to collect from the widow. So yours truly gets stuck for their tab."

"Uh, Sol . . . this Harper widow . . . "

"That's all I know, Stuart, she . . . oh no, not you too."

"Not yet, Sol. She's one of our clients." Stu paused and let the situation sink it. "She's the reason I came to ask about Rizzo and Gallo. Somebody trashed her apartment and she thinks they're trying to kill her."

"Does she have the money to pay them?"

Stu shook his head. "I don't think so. I haven't had a chance to verify that."

"And you want me to get off their backs so they'll get off hers."

"Something like that."

Sol looked across the counter at his nephew and shook his head. "Only for you, Stuart. Only for you."

"Thanks, Sol. I promise the next time I come it will be for a visit."

"Sure it will. Go on, get out of here before I change my mind."

Stu waited for the door buzzer to sound and then he opened the door and hurried out. He'd come for information and got a lot more than he bargained for. So Harper was into Rizzo and Gallo for six figures? Stu was surprised that all that had been trashed was her apartment. It was more important than ever that he find Nina. In a hurry.


	3. Chapter 3

The Pony Caper

Chapter 3

It was almost noon when Stu got back to the office. He stopped by Suzanne's desk to see what she had for him, and there was only one message, from Roscoe. '_Coming in with info_. _Be there by the third race.' _"There's someone waiting in your office. She wouldn't give me her name."

Stu opened his office door, unsure of what to expect. He was genuinely surprised to find Nina, all in one piece. And what a piece it was. She had on skin-tight white pants and a tropical print top that tied at the waist. And she'd found his scotch.

"Where did you disappear to last night?" he inquired in a slightly irritated manner.

"It's a long story, Stuart. Do you have glasses for this or should I just drink out of the bottle?" her voice was playful, and she rewarded him with a blazing hot smile. Even if he was angry he couldn't have withstood the wattage.

"Of course I have glasses. And I want to hear the story." He pulled down the door to the small bar that he kept in the office.

"Clever," she remarked as he poured her a drink. "Aren't you having one?"

"I haven't had lunch yet. It's too early."

"For lunch or scotch?" she quipped.

"Both. Now, how about answering my question?"

"Mmm. Delicious," she proclaimed as the scotch poured down the inside of her throat. "Well, when I realized I couldn't sleep after you left, I cleaned up your apartment and went back to my place to do damage control. I thought I'd find you there and we could get to know each other. You were already gone, so I straightened up as much as I could and slept in my car. When I woke up this morning I took a shower and got dressed, then came here to find you 'out.' I figured I better wait."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"Because I can't do this over the telephone." She wrapped her free hand around his neck and pulled him close until he could feel the heat rising off of her. The temptation was too much for him, and their lips met and parted, then met again and stayed locked in a kiss that lasted forever. He could taste the scotch in her mouth and his body responded to what her heat was doing to him. He broke away reluctantly as Suzanne entered the office.

"I'm sorry, Stuart, but your Uncle Sol is on the phone. He says it's urgent."

"Thanks, Suzanne." He pushed the button and picked up the phone. "Sol? What is it?"

He tried listening to the phone call while Nina ran her fingers through his hair. It wasn't easy to concentrate on what Sol was telling him. "Once more, Sol. Who was involved this morning?" He listened for another minute. "What time?" He pulled away from her to concentrate on the call. "Where? And they told you what else?" There was temporary silence on Bailey's end of the phone call, and then he finished with, "Alright, thanks, Sol."

He backed away from Nina. "Sit down." When she protested he ordered, "Sit down and stay there." He turned again to the bar and extracted another glass, then poured himself three fingers of scotch. He drank half of it and sat in his desk chair. "Luie Rizzo was killed this morning, around 9 a.m. On Benedict Canyon Road. A car ran him over the cliff in the 300 block." He finished the scotch. "Where were you at nine this morning, Nina?"

XXXXXXXX

Nina finally decided to quit acting like a sex kitten and asked quietly for another drink. "So that's what all the commotion was down the hill." She cast her gaze downward at her hands.

"You were still at your apartment?"

She nodded without changing her gaze. "It took me almost thirty minutes to go two blocks. I was on my way to Pann's for breakfast." She looked back up and saw the accusation in his deep brown eyes. "You don't think I . . . you do, don't you? You think I ran Luie Rizzo off the road."

"I don't know what to think, Nina. I don't know if I can believe a word you've told me since you showed up at my front door. Why don't you quit playing games with me and give me some straight answers?"

Her expression turned to one of pain and a thought crossed his mind . . . either she was truly sorry for the way she'd acted, or she was a damn fine actress. Right now he wasn't sure which was the truth. "Tell me the real story, Nina."

"I have, Stuart. I told you the truth about everything. The only thing phony has been the 'hot to trot' act."

"Why, Nina? Why? You're a beautiful woman. A man would have to be blind not to want you. Why did you think you had to come on like a . . . well, like a . . . "

"Go ahead, say it. Like a whore. I don't know, Stu. I was scared, and if you wouldn't help me . . . I guess I better go now, huh? Thanks for the scotch. It really was delicious." She took a swipe at her eyes and got up from the chair, heading for the door. Stu caught her by the elbow just as she started to open it. With one swift move he spun her around, folded her into his arms and kissed her tenderly.

"You don't have to come on like that to me, Nina. You're much more attractive this way. Now, let's see what we can do about getting you out of the mess you're in."

She looked at him hopefully. "Really? You're willing to help?"

"Really, I'm willing to help. Did you ever get breakfast?"

"Yes, but I couldn't eat much of it. I was too worried."

He smiled at her and pulled out his cigarette case. "I know a good place for lunch, and it's close. We can smoke while we walk."

On the way out he told Suzanne, "We'll be next door if Roscoe comes in."

"Alright, Stu. Enjoy your lunch."

"Oh, I will, Suzanne," he told her as he guided Nina out of the office.

XXXXXXXX

By the time they were back from lunch Roscoe still hadn't shown up. "Maybe he got a hot tip in the fifth race," Suzanne offered.

"If you see him, send him in."

Stu and Nina were making three lists when Roscoe finally arrived. "You tracking the fillies, Stu?"

"No, Roscoe, we're trying to make some headway on what Nina lost. You've got some information for me?"

"Some? I've got more than the jockeys that ride at Churchill Downs weigh. Can we do this in private?" Roscoe was careful about divulging information to people he didn't know. And he definitely didn't know Nina.

"Nina? I've got an office for you to wait in." Stu had gotten up and opened Jeff's door. Nine followed soon after, and Stuart closed the door to give him and Roscoe privacy. "How's that?" he asked his friend and part-time employee.

"Better," Roscoe answered. "The dive that Luie Rizzo took off of Benedict Canyon was definitely helped by a black Packard. Your girl drives a white Thunderbird, so she's clean. Word is that Ted Bianchi had something to do with it. Rizzo owed him big bucks. Bianchi's a disciple of Al LaCosta. Bianchi isn't the only one that Rizzo was into. He owed Sol . . . but I'm sure you know about that by now. The penthouse came from Jerry's Downtown Motors. That seems to be one of LaCosta's legitimate businesses. The T-Bird she bought with cash.

"Word is that Rizzo got impatient for the money that Harper owed him and had the dame's apartment tossed, looking for diamonds which Mrs. Harper is reported to have quite a few of. None were found.

"Oh and, just in case you were becoming fond of Mrs. Harper, word is she's clean as far as anybody knows. Not easy for a babe with that many connections. Now wasn't that worth waiting for?"

"Thanks, Roscoe. Send Mrs. Harper back in, would you?"

Roscoe stuck his head in Jeff's office. Nina was flipping through the latest issue of Time magazine. "Hey Beauty, the Beast would like you to return to his lair. Oh God, I gotta quit hanging around Suzanne." Roscoe went rushing out of the office, reading the Daily Racing Form. "If I hurry I can catch the second race at Pimlico. There's a filly named My Next Case running."

"Well, Nina, the good news is you're officially cleared in Luie Rizzo's death."

"And the bad news, Stu?"

"Now we have to find the diamonds that Dennis owned."


	4. Chapter 4

The Pony Caper

Chapter 4

"The what?"

"The diamonds, Nina. You know, those shiny baubles that women adore and men sell their souls for."

Nina looked totally confused and Stu was back to wondering 'acting or clueless?' He studied the woman for a good five minutes and decided not to decide. "Dennis owed for more than just bad judgment in horses. He owed them for diamonds. That's what they were looking for when then trashed your place."

"But I don't, believe me, Stu, I don't have any diamonds. Except for this little bitty one here," and she stuck out her right hand. If that was a 'little bitty' one, Stuart had officially become a monkey's uncle. But that was the only one that she had on; no necklaces, bracelets, earrings or rings, at least of the diamond variety.

"Then who was he buying the diamonds for?" Stu got out his pipe and put it in his mouth. He needed the pipe to help him concentrate, and it usually worked. Not today. The problem was what was sitting right in front of him. He wanted desperately to reach across the desk, to hold her face in his hands, to taste those lips again. And he wanted more than that, and he knew that this was the wrong time and the wrong place. He cleared his throat, then clamped his teeth on his pipe, hoping that would help, and it did, momentarily.

"Mother, sister?"

"No."

"Mistress?" He asked, and he saw the pain flash in her eyes for just an instant. Why anyone with a wife that looked like Nina would need a mistress, Stu couldn't understand. But he had to ask the question; the diamonds belonged to somebody.

"Maybe," she answered surprisingly.

"Realistically, or are you just guessing?"

She chuckled then, and gave him a smile. "I'm guessing, but it's possible. The diamonds are going somewhere, and it's sure not to me."

"Very true," he agreed with her. "Who would know for sure?"

"His best friend, Charlie Sutton."

He put his pipe in its case and grabbed her hand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"To talk to Charlie Sutton, of course."

Easier said than done. In order to talk to Charlie Sutton, one first had to find Charlie Sutton. Stu and Nina went to his apartment; he wasn't there. Next they tried his favorite bar; he wasn't there, either. Finally they stopped at Santa Anita and found him at one of the betting windows. He seemed more than surprised to see Nina and wary of the man she had with her. "Charlie, this is Stuart Bailey, a friend of mine. Stu, Charlie and Dennis were best friends."

"Boy, Nina, on a beautiful day like today I sure miss Dennis. Especially his advice on the ponies."

Nina laughed, assuming that Charlie was making a joke. "Yeah, Charlie, his racing acumen was so sharp."

Charlie nodded in agreement with her. "He was the luckiest man I ever saw with the horses."

"Did you say luckiest?" Stu asked politely.

"Didn't you know Dennis? Yeah, he was the luckiest. He was always winning. I never saw a day he had here at the track when he didn't win two or three thousand dollars."

"You must be mistaken, Dennis," Nina corrected him. "He never won at the track. He was in debt up to his eyeballs."

This time Sutton shook his head, and a scowl appeared on his face. "I oughta know, Nina, I was with him. Dennis won all the time. He never walked oughta here without two or three thousand dollars on him."

Stu and Nina exchanged looks that said it all. If Dennis was winning at the track, why wasn't he paying Rizzo and Gallo? And where was the money going? But that wasn't what they'd tracked Charlie down for. And Nina wanted to broach the question carefully. "Charlie, do you know if Dennis had a . . . woman friend?"

"You mean like a girlfriend?"

"Maybe not a girlfriend. Maybe just a woman he was . . . helping out."

"Not since he married you, Nina." The corners of Charlie's mouth turned up, and just a hint of a shared secret smile appeared.

"And before me?" Nina asked.

Charlie watched the horses parading towards the starting gate. "Well . . . there was one. She was just a friend, mind you, that he visited from time to time."

"Do you remember her name?" Stu finally asked.

"Uh . . . Kristina, I believe. Yeah, Kristina. I think her last name was Jenson or Johnson, somethin' like that."

"Did Dennis ever tell you where she lived?" Nina persisted.

"Only the city. Ventura. She lived in Ventura."

"Thanks, Charlie. You've been a big help."

There wasn't much said on the way back to Nina's apartment. They'd decided to look through the paperwork that Dennis left, hoping there would be something to give them more than Kristina in Ventura. Nina and Stu spent the next three hours examining every single piece of paper that Dennis had in his files, and found nothing . . . well, maybe nothing. The receipt for a safe deposit box at the Bank of America branch on Ventura Boulevard. It was well past seven o'clock now, and that branch would be closed.

"Seems like I've asked this question already, but are you hungry?" Stu asked with a puzzled look on his face.

"Starving," Nina answered, "for a fat, juicy steak."

He gazed at the taut figure that stood in front of him and wondered where she was going to put it. But wouldn't it be fun to watch her try? "Let's go to Villa Nova. After dinner I can take you back to your car."

"I'll go for that if you give me ten minutes to change into something more appropriate for dinner."

"Take all the time you need," was the answer he gave her as he headed for the living room. He found a comfortable chair, pulled out his pipe, and looked at the magazines laying on the coffee table. Newsweek, The New Yorker, Playboy, Vanity Fair, and on top of them all, yesterday's edition of the Wall Street Journal. Quite a variety of reading material. He picked up the latest issue of The New Yorker and began reading an article.

He was just finishing when the bedroom door opened and a vision in black walked out. She had on high heels and a gold necklace with a huge black pearl on the end, and she carried a small gold bag. The dress was fitted at the bust line and flared out from there, and she was gorgeous. "Awfully fancy for Villa Nova, don't you think?" Stu asked her.

"I didn't dress for Villa Nova, silly. I dressed for you."

He rose from the chair and met her halfway to the door. He slipped his arms around her back and pulled her to him, then kissed her like she was the most delicious item on the menu. "And that's what I think of that." Stuart stepped away from her and she instinctively grabbed for his arm.

"Where are you going?" she whispered.

"Away. If I don't stop now I won't stop, and we're both too hungry to miss dinner."

He had a point, which she acknowledged. "Alright, I see what you mean. But I'd like more of that for dessert, please."

"Management will see what it can do to accommodate you."


	5. Chapter 5

The Pony Caper

Chapter 5

It was an excellent dinner, followed by a memorable dessert. Stu's only complaint was that a drive back to the Bailey & Spencer offices, and Nina's car, came after dessert. They sat in his car for a while and talked, then they sat in her car for a while and kissed. At that point both of them knew it was time to go home. "Will you be here by ten tomorrow morning?" Stu asked, wanting to get to the safe deposit box as early as possible.

"Of course," came the reply.

"Where are you sleeping tonight? The bedroom or the car?"

"The bedroom. I feel better than I did yesterday. I'll be fine."

He took her hands in his and kissed the back of each one. "You can sleep at my place if you want."

"Stu, I don't think . . ."

"I meant you can have the bedroom and I'll take the couch. I'd feel better if you were there." It had become important to him that nothing happen to her.

"Stu . . . "

"Or I can stay at your place and sleep on the couch."

She laughed a little and withdrew her hands. "That's really not necessary."

"It's necessary to me." He knew he sounded insistent, but he didn't want her to be alone.

Nina sighed and gave in. "Alright, let's stay at my place. You can drive to your apartment and pick up what you need, and then meet me at my apartment. We'll leave from there tomorrow."

He nodded and smiled. "Good. Don't you feel better? I feel better."

"I suppose. Alright, Mr. Detective. Get a move on. I don't want to be up forever waiting for you to get to my place."

"Yes, ma'am." And just as a joke he saluted her. Then he got in his car and headed for his apartment. By the time he got there he'd already made a mental note of what he needed to take with him. He was thinking about the list as he opened the door and not paying attention to the goon that came out of nowhere and tried to knock him down. He fought back with a hard left to the jaw of the hoodlum but just as he felt he was getting the upper hand another thug came in the door behind him and cracked him over the head with a gun butt. As Stu went down his only thought was of Nina.

XXXXXXXX

The alarm was ringing, and as he reached over to turn it off he realized it wasn't the alarm, it was the phone. He finally grabbed the receiver and mumbled, "Hello."

"Where are you, Mr. Detective? Do you know how long I've been waiting?"

"Nina," was as much as he could whisper before dropping the phone and collapsing again.

"Stu? Stu, are you there? Stuart!" Nina practically screamed into the handset. She got no answer and grabbed a robe and went running out of the penthouse, almost forgetting to lock the door. It took her twenty minutes to get to his place, and he was beginning to come around by the time she arrived. His door was open and he was sitting on the floor, propped up by the back of the couch. She got a washcloth from his bathroom and ran cold water over it, then applied it to his head until he moaned.

"Are you alright?"

"Would have been fine if not for the second man. Not fair, two against one."

"What did they want? Did they take anything?"

"Don't know, but I suspect they were looking for the same thing we were."

"Did they get the safe deposit receipt?" she asked frantically.

"No, I already checked. My money, my watch, my laundry ticket, but not the safe deposit receipt. Dennis didn't put his name on it, and it looked like any other useless piece of paper. Ouch." He pulled the washcloth away from the back of his head and it was spotty with blood.

"You need to see a doctor."

"Oh, please, no," he begged. "I can't take an emergency room, and no doctor in his right mind will come out to see me."

"Mine will," she insisted. She picked up the phone and dialed a number, and the doctor himself answered. "Doctor Grossman, this is Nina Harper. I've got a man with a lot of blood on the back of the head, possible concussion. Can you come see him, please? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Address is 1430 Lowell Place Road, apartment 2B. Uh-huh. Fifteen minutes? Thank you, Doctor."

"How did you do that?" Stu begged.

"We paid him a shit-load of money." She leaned his head against her shoulder and said, "You didn't have to go to all this trouble, you know. If you wanted to stay at your place you could have just told me."

He tried to laugh but it hurt too much.

Dr. Grossman proved to be as good as his word, and was at Stu's apartment inside of fifteen minutes. He took five stitches but determined that the private eye didn't have a concussion. Nevertheless, he advised Nina to keep an eye on Stuart for twenty-four hours.

"You know what that means, don't you?" Nina asked Stu after the doctor was gone.

"No, you tell me. I've never been hit in the head before," he answered with as much sarcasm as he could muster.

"Smarty-pants. If you go to sleep, it better be with your head in my lap so I can keep an eye on you."

"Now that's punishment I can stand."

"Let's see if we can get you up and get to the couch." She helped him to his feet; he managed to stay upright, but he was unsteady. They moved around to the front of the couch and she got him to lie down, then she took off his shoes and covered him with the blanket that was draped over the arm. She sat down and slipped under his head effortlessly; he gave her a wan smile and closed his eyes. Within minutes he was asleep, and she followed shortly after that.

He woke the next morning to the smell of bacon and coffee, and sat up slowly. Nina was in the kitchen, humming softly to herself. He could hear dishes rattling, and in just a few minutes she walked into the living room with a cup of coffee. "Is that for me?" he asked.

"Of course. Who else would I divulge my deepest, darkest secret to?" She gave him a smile as she handed the cup to him. "Need anything for that?"

"A little cream," came the reply.

In just a moment she was back with the cream carton and a spoon. As he doctored his coffee he returned to the remark she'd made about her secret. "What secret is that, by the way?"

"That I can cook." She stole a quick glance at the small table that occupied the dining room. "It's almost done. I'm waiting on the toast." Just then the sound of the toast popping up could be heard. "Need help getting to the table?"

He stood without wobbling and shook his head slightly. "No, apparently not."

By the time he was seated at the table she'd brought in two plates of bacon, eggs and toast. "I didn't know how you like your eggs so I scrambled them."

"That's fine," he replied.

"You hungry this morning?" She asked as he ate.

"Mmm, they're good. The eggs, I mean. Usually over easy. I think you'll need something else to wear before we go to the bank." Even with a splitting headache, he ate happily. Breakfast was a meal normally confined to a muffin and coffee.

"I was in a bit of a rush."

"So it would seem. I'm not complaining, mind you."

There was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Just wait. Next time you're bleeding to death I'll take the time to dress appropriately."

They finished their meal in relative silence, comfortable enough with each other to remain that way. When they were done she cleared the table, then returned with the coffee pot and poured them both another cup. "Let's take my car," he suggested as they polished off the last of the coffee.

"Alright. Are you going to shower?"

"Yes. I think I need to."

"Don't be too long or we'll never get to the bank," reminding him of their original plan.

He sighed. "I remember."

She felt bad for him. She was sure the last thing he wanted to do was traipse around town with a head that hurt. "You shower, I'll clean up."

Twenty minutes later they were on their way to her penthouse. They'd left her car at his place. She was a little slower getting ready than him; it took her thirty minutes, but it was time well spent. She wore a perfectly fitted floral sundress, with just a little mascara and lipstick. The quintessential California girl.  
"Do I look respectable enough?" she asked.

"You look beautiful," he told her, and he meant it.

"Why don't you drive? I can never find Ventura Boulevard."

"Alright," as he hurried around to the passenger side to open her door for her.

"Mmm, I could get used to this," she told him when they were on their way.

Stu nodded in agreement. "So could I."


	6. Chapter 6

The Pony Caper

Chapter 6

It was ten after ten when they arrived at the bank. They were inside before he pulled the receipt out of his wallet and handed it to the safe-deposit teller. "We'd like to see this box, please."

The clerk looked at the receipt, then matched it to the ledger they kept. When she returned she told Bailey, "I'll need to see some identification, please, Mr. Harper."

Stu acted casual and reached for his wallet. He came up empty. He turned to Nina. "Honey, I forgot my wallet. Show the young lady your identification, would you please?"

"Of course, Dennis. I just knew you were going to do that someday."

"What, leave my wallet at home?"

"Exactly."

Nina showed the bank clerk her driver's license and the girl was satisfied. "Follow me, please, Mr. and Mrs. Harper." She led them into a private room with a table and chairs, then went to look for the box. In just a few minutes she was back and she set the safe-deposit box on the table. "Just leave it there when you're through and I'll return it."

As soon as the girl was gone, Nina pulled out her keys and held up an odd- looking one. "Let's see if this fits. Dennis gave it to me and told me to keep it, but he never told me what it was for."

They got lucky. Nina opened the box excitedly, only to find a lone envelope with Dennis' name on it. Inside the envelope was another key, but this one looked more conventional, like the key to a locker might look. "Now what?"

"Now we put Roscoe to work." Stu already had a hunch, but he wanted Roscoe to assume the legwork. For the past two days he'd allowed everything to slide at the office, and it was time he did some work. "Nina, I have to spend today at the office. Shall I take you back to your car?"

"Yes, please. I have something to do, too. What about dinner tonight?"

"Probably. It depends on how far I get with the work that's piled up. How about nine at Dino's?" Stu asked her.

"That sounds good. I'll come by the office."

They were mostly quiet on the way back to his apartment, and he parked next to her and opened her door for her. "Nine o'clock. I'll see you then."

She waved goodbye to him and headed back down the canyon. He wondered where she was going, but reminded himself that she had a life, too. He hurried back to the office, to face Suzanne's wrath for not having kept her abreast of where he was.

By three o'clock he had returned all the phone calls and was back in Suzanne's good graces. Roscoe hadn't called or come in yet, but Stuart knew he would show up eventually. He had reports to produce, and one or two of Jeff's to check, and the day went by faster than he expected it to. When Roscoe turned up it was quarter of five, and Stu was on the phone. Roscoe sat down and waited. When Stu got off the phone, he pulled out the key that he and Nina had discovered in the safe-deposit box. "Look familiar?" he asked.

Roscoe shook his head at first, then said, "Wait a minute. Let me see that." He scrutinized it and finally looked at Stuart. "Looks like a Santa Anita locker key."

"I need to know for certain, Roscoe. Find out."

"Sure, Stu. It's always a pleasure to see the ponies. Tomorrow okay?"

"Fine, Roscoe, but before the seventh race."

The rest of the evening seemed to drag. Right now he was wishing that he hadn't agreed to dinner with Nina, or that he'd made the time for earlier, or anything that would get him out of the office. He forced himself to keep working, and even though he didn't want to be there right now he got most of everything finished by the time he heard the front door open. "Nina, in here" he called out, and when she opened his office door he remembered why he'd made the date to have dinner with her.

Once again she looked stunning. A fitted blue print dress with a mandarin collar and a simple gold chain, she needed nothing further to accent her beauty. He put the last of the reports in a folder and stood up from his desk. "You look lovely," he told her, and she graced him again with one of those mega-watt smiles.

"Thank you. Can you leave?"

"Yes, thank God. I finished everything I needed to. I can't wait for Jeff to get back from San Francisco so he can do his share of the paperwork."

He locked the office on the way out and they walked to Dino's. A table in the back, quietly intimate, and an ice-cold martini went a long way towards taking away the stress of the day. "Did you talk to Roscoe?" Nina asked.

"He came by the office. I gave him the key and asked him to check out a hunch I had. I'll know something tomorrow. What did you do today?"

"Oh, girly things. Got my hair done, went shopping, little errands like that. I missed you today."

They ordered dinner and waited for it to be served; for the first time the silence was strained. Stu finally pulled out his cigarette case and offered her one, which she declined. "Any problems today?" he asked as he lit his cigarette.

"No, no one following me. That seems almost normal to say, now."

"We'll get it straightened out, don't worry."

She rested her hand on his arm. "I'm not worried. You make me feel safe."

"Good. Everyone should feel safe."

She sensed a change in him, but she wasn't exactly sure what, or why. They had started to get close, really close, but he was different somehow. It was almost as if he'd put up a wall of some kind, and now it stood between them. "Stu?"

"Yes?"

"Is there something wrong? Between us, I mean?"

"No, of course not." She heard the words, but there was no feeling behind them. It was almost as if . . . yes, that was it exactly. Somehow, someway, she'd become just a client again. Her heart wasn't broken, but she was sorely disappointed. Dinner appeared, as if by magic, but she was no longer interested in it.

"Stuart, I don't feel well. I'm going home." And before he could say another word, she was gone. When Benny came by to see if everything was alright, Stu explained that the lady had taken ill. Truthfully, he didn't know what had happened. He finished his salad and had the rest of the meal wrapped so he could take it home.

He got in his car and headed for his apartment, still confused by the turn of events. When he got home he tried calling her, but there was no answer. She'd probably gone to bed, so he decided he'd call in the morning and see how she was. Actually she was at home on the bed, crying her heart out at the turn of events. Stu Bailey was a different kind of man, and she'd begun to appreciate the differences between him and every other man that tried to . . . and that just made her cry harder.


	7. Chapter 7

The Pony Caper

Chapter 7

Another morning of coffee and a muffin. As he drank his coffee he remembered yesterday morning, with scrambled eggs and bacon, and for a moment he thought of her. Breathtakingly beautiful, smart, funny and a great cook with breakfast. And for just a moment his heart hurt. Then he remembered the fear and panic he'd felt when he realized how much he'd begun to care for her. It would be easy, he thought, to let his feelings grow into love, and then what would he do? A man couldn't have two mistresses, and one or the other would have to go. The work he loved, or the woman he loved. He'd already made a choice, and when he did something in him changed.

Still, he cared enough to make sure she was alright, so as soon as he was done with breakfast he called her again. He'd tried last night but got no answer. He listened to the phone ringing and knew he'd get none this morning, either. After the sixth ring he hung up. She must have sensed it too, the change that had come over him. She hadn't been sick last night. She knew she'd lost him to his first love, the business and the agency.

He loved women; they were beautiful and delightful, a pleasure to be around and spend time with. But they didn't fill the need he had to do something meaningful, something more than just sit on the sidelines and watch his life go by. The war had fulfilled that need, but when the war was over there had to be something more. Bailey and Spencer, Private Investigators, was the answer. New problems to solve, new people to help. And then she turned up on his doorstep.

He still loved women; all women. But there couldn't be just one woman, and he knew that. She had come dangerously close to changing his mind. Two days was enough to give him a glimpse of what could be, and he made the decision to stop it before it went any further. Before he fell head over heels in love with her and there was no going back.

"Good morning, Suzanne," was the greeting he gave their ever-present receptionist, and she smiled at him.

"Good morning, Stuart," she replied as she handed him his messages. Even Suzanne could tell something was different. There was a familiar bounce in his step, a joy in his voice that had been missing. She didn't know what had happened, but she was happy to have the old Stuart back. Everyone else would be, too.

XXXXXXXX

Roscoe was there before the first race. "Your instinct was right, Stu, it's a key to a locker under the grandstands at Santa Anita."

"How do we find out which locker, Roscoe?" Somebody must have records, Stu thought, even though there was no number on the key. Maybe they'd kept a record when the locker was paid for. Roscoe, for once, was half a step ahead of him.

"They've got ledgers with names and numbers in them, but they have to be gone through to find the right name. I figured you'd want me to do that, so I told Al I'd be back later." Al was Roscoe's friend and contact at the track. He'd worked in the office for years, and had access to all the track records.

"Good. You're looking for Harper, Charlie Harper. If it's not in his name it would be under Nina Harper."

"Where will you be?" Roscoe asked.

"I'm going to the airport to pick up Jeff at two o'clock. We're coming back to the office."

"I'll be back as soon as I know more. Or after the seventh race."

"Roscoe . . . "

"Alright, I'll be back when I've got an answer for you."

Stu laughed, and it felt good.

XXXXXXXX

"How did it go in San Francisco?" Stu asked on the way to the baggage carousel.

"Great," Jeff answered enthusiastically. "I got everything cleared up, and the Rawlings Institute is pleased. How was everything down here?"

It took a minute for Stu to answer. "Fine."

Jeff knew that tone of voice and that answer as well. It meant something happened and I don't want to talk about it. "Did you get a chance to look over those reports I left?"

"They looked good. I got two or three finished myself."

Spencer knew he needed to find out just what had put Stu into this mood. "They didn't feed us on the plane. How about Dino's for lunch?"

"Sure. Sounds good."

Jeff tried one more question before he threw in the towel. "Kookie back yet?" Kookie had gone to Mexico to do some surfing.

"No, not yet. Tomorrow, I think."

The rest of the drive, which wasn't too long, was completed in relative silence. Stu parked the car and smoked a cigarette while Jeff ran his bags inside. Then the two of them walked over to Dino's and grabbed a table. Jeff ordered iced tea, Stu a Vodka Gimlet. That was unusual in itself. "How'd it go with that blonde I sent to your apartment? "

"Still working on it. Roscoe's at Santa Anita running something down."

That was the sore spot, Jeff figured. He had asked about the woman, Stu had answered about the case.

"You know if there's something you want to talk about – "

"I know. You're a good listener. I'll keep that in mind. Tell me what went on at Rawlings."

Jeff explained the whole story while they ate lunch. Stuart asked a question here or there but was quiet for the most part. By the time Jeff finished, so had lunch. Both men smoked as they walked back to the agency. When they got to the outside door, Stu stopped his partner. "Jeff . . . thanks."

"I'm right next door if you need anything."

"I'm fine."

There was that word again. Fine. Which, of course, meant that Stu wasn't fine. But Jeff knew better than to push it. Both had messages and went to their office to return the calls. Nina Harper was not among Stuarts, but she'd left a phone number for Jeff.


	8. Chapter 8

The Pony Caper

Chapter 8

Jeff was surprised to see the phone call from Nina; then again, he wasn't surprised at all. It was obvious that whatever had happened involved her and Stu. That being the case, she wouldn't call his partner for information. Jeff buzzed Suzanne. "Suzanne, has Roscoe come in yet?"

"Yes, Jeff, just a few minutes ago. He's in Stuart's office. Do you want to see him when he comes out?"

"Yes, please. Would you send him in here when he's finished?"

"Certainly."

He couldn't very well call Nina Harper until he'd spoken to Roscoe. It might be Stu's case, but it looked like Stu wasn't communicating with her. It was only a few minutes before Roscoe appeared. "The Harper case?" Jeff asked him.

"Yeah. That's it, alright."

"What did Stu send you to Santa Anita for?"

"To see if we could find the locker that this key goes to." Roscoe handed Jeff the mysterious key.

Jeff chuckled. That sounded like it was right up Roscoe's alley. "And did you?"

"Well now, Jeff, that would be a difficult thing to do. There are almost five thousand lockers at Santa Anita."

"That means you found it."

Roscoe nodded his head. "Of course I did. And you can put money on that filly."

"And what was in it, pray tell?" Roscoe was really making him work for this one.

"Oh, I didn't open it. Stu didn't tell me to."

Jeff sighed. They all loved Roscoe, but sometimes the man could be exasperating. "Alright, that's all I needed to know. I'll give the key back to Stu."

Jeff waited until Roscoe was gone before knocking on Stu's door. "Can I come in?"

"Of course."

Spencer sat down after setting the key on Stu's desk. "Do you want me to go out and see what's in the locker?"

Stu looked up. "I'd be grateful if you would. I'm right in the middle of something."

"No problem. I'll head out there now. What was the locker number?"

"Thirty-five seventy-eight."

"I'll let you know what I find."

As he walked past Suzanne he told her, "I'm going to Santa Anita. I should be back in a couple of hours."

Suzanne looked perplexed. "Isn't that where Roscoe just came from?"

"Yes."

It was a pleasant day and the drive was nice. Jeff would have enjoyed it more if he wasn't so concerned about his partner. Stu was capable of making his own decisions; Jeff just wanted to be sure he was alright with the decision he'd made.

It took him almost twenty minutes to find locker thirty-five seventy-eight. He put the key Roscoe had given him in the lock and turned. The locker opened. In it was nothing but a slip of paper with _'Kristina, Cherry 4596' _written on it. He slipped the paper back in the locker and shut the door. He had no idea who Kristina was, but Cherry 4596 was definitely a phone number. He found his car and drove back to the office. He'd sure be glad when Kookie came home; it was a pain in the ass to park his own car.

Suzanne was waving a message at him as he walked in. "Nina Harper called again."

"I'll call her back in just a few minutes." The door was open in Stu's office; he walked right on in and sat down.

Stuart finally asked him, "Well, where is it?"

"Where's what?" Jeff asked innocently.

"Whatever was in the locker."

"I didn't bring it back. Did you want me to?" Jeff could see that Stu wasn't appreciating the humor in the whole thing. "There was nothing in the locker but a slip of paper that read Kristina, Cherry 4596."

"So he did have a mistress after all."

"Who, Harper? You gotta fill me in on the details, Stu."

Stu began the story of Nina and Dennis Harper, leaving out most of the personal interraction between him and Nina. When he was through Jeff whistled. "Looks like Harper left a fine trail for you to follow."

"Not me anymore, Jeff. I can't. I'd appreciate it if you'd take over." Stuart looked dead serious.

Jeff nodded. "I will if you'll give me a clue about what happened that you're not telling me."

A deep sigh escaped from Stuart. He sat with his head in his hands for a good five minutes before he said anything. When he finally spoke his voice was very soft. "Let's just say that Mrs. Harper and I got a little more involved than we should have, and leave it at that. Can we?"

"Sure. Then you don't mind if I call her and make arrangements to see if we can find this Kristina?"

"No."

Jeff went back to his office and closed the door between them. He took the message that Suzanne had waved at him so frantically, sat down and dialed the number. "Hello?"

"Is this Mrs. Harper?"

"Yes."

"Mrs. Harper, this is Jeff Spencer."

There was a long pause before Nina said anything. When she did, it was in a resigned tone. "Mr. Spencer, I'd like to know if you or anyone else has found my husband's locker. And please call me Nina."

"Alright Nina, I'm Jeff. We did find a locker at Santa Anita that the key fit. I'll return the key to you when I see you."

"Aha. And when will that be?"

"Tomorrow, at your convenience." Jeff wanted to see her as soon as possible, but he would leave the time up to her.

"How about ten o'clock?"

"Ten o'clock is fine. That's 432A Benedict Canyon Drive, correct?"

"Correct, Jeff."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow."

Once more he found himself in Stu's office. "I've got a ten o'clock appointment with Mrs. Harper at her apartment. You can keep it if you'd rather."

Stu shook his head. "No, it's your appointment. You keep it."

Jeff went out to see Suzanne before she left for the day. "Suzanne, I'm meeting Nina Harper at her place at ten tomorrow morning. I won't be in until afterward."

"Jeff, is Stuart all right? He seemed so like himself when he came in this morning, but now he seems . . . I don't know. Unhappy."

"No, Suzanne, he's not alright. Let's just say that the consequences of a decision he made are weighing heavily on him."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No. There's nothing anyone can do. He'll deal with it. Eventually."


	9. Chapter 9

The Pony Caper

Chapter 9

Jeff arrived at Nina Harper's door promptly at ten o'clock. She answered the knock on the door slowly.

"Mrs. Harper? I'm Jeff Spencer."

"Come in, Mr. Spencer. And it was Nina, remember?"

He took a good look at her and understood why Stu was in such turmoil. No matter what happened that caused the abrupt split, neither party seemed to be handling it well. While still as lovely as ever, Nina was dressed all in black and her eyes were red from crying.

"Touché, Nina. May I come in?"

"Oh, certainly. Won't you have a seat?"

The couch was big and luxurious, and he sat at one end. Nina took a chair opposite him. "Would you like something to drink? I have coffee."

"Coffee would be great." Jeff had been running late this morning and only had time to grab a roll.

"Black?"

"Yes, black."

Nina brought the coffee and sat back down as Jeff was reaching in his pocket for the key he promised to bring. He set it on the coffee table in front of her and Nina stared at it blankly. "That's the key."

"To the locker at Santa Anita?"

"Yes, ma'am, number thirty-five seventy-eight."

"And what was in it, Jeff?" Nina asked without a bit of curiosity in her voice.

Jeff took another swallow of coffee before answering. He wanted a moment to study her carefully. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. It was easy to see why someone would fall for her. Had it been Stu? "A single piece of paper with a name and phone number on it."

"Let me guess. The name was Kristina."

"Yes it was. And the number was . . . "

"Cherry 4596."

"You seem to know more about this than I do, Nina."

She shook her head. "No, I checked for some of the phone numbers that I didn't know that were on the bill. That one kept coming up."

"Any idea who she is?"

A small laugh escaped Nina. "Oh, sorry. I never knew she existed, but she was a 'friend' of Dennis."

"Any idea what she might have to do with all this?"

"According to Charlie Sutton, Dennis hadn't seen her since we got married."

"So maybe nothing?" Jeff asked point blank.

"I doubt that very much. Dennis never did anything without a purpose."

"Any idea where she lives, or what her last name is?"

"No on the last name, and Ventura is where she lives."

The private eye thought for a minute. "I guess a trip to Ventura is in order."

"What will you do when you get there?" came the widow's question.

"Call the number and see if I get an answer. If it's Kristina, I'll see if I can talk her into seeing me."

"When are you going?"

"I can leave from here if I can borrow your phone," Jeff replied.

"Sure."

He dialed the office. "Suzanne, it's Jeff. Have you got anything for me? Uh-huh. No, that can wait. Uh-huh. If they call again, have them talk to Stu. I'm going to Ventura and don't know exactly when I'll be back. Right. Transfer me to Stu, would you?"

Nina had visibly stiffened when he said 'Stu.' Nonetheless, if the two people involved intended to ignore each other, there was going to be some pain and frustration involved. "Stu, listen, I'm going to Ventura. To find the elusive Kristina, I hope. Yes. Yes. I can't answer that right now. Uh-huh. I will. Thanks."

Looking at Nina, he told her, "Stu sends his best."

She snorted before bursting out in hysterical laughter, which quickly turned to tears. Jeff handed her his handkerchief. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose, then told him, "Well, I see I have to launder this for you."

"Nina, can I ask you what happened? Between you and Stuart, I mean."

"You can ask, Jeff, but I can't give you an answer. I don't really know what happened. We were fine, getting along and enjoying each other's company, and the spring I see growing in Stuart's eyes suddenly changes into winter. And I don't know how to talk to him when he's as cold as ice, so I haven't."

From what Nina told him, Jeff could figure it out. Stu was enjoying himself, getting to know a beautiful lady, and he realized they were getting too close. And the gates closed and the wall came down. Stu had probably learned to do that during the war when he couldn't trust anyone, or let them know the real Stuart. But this was the first time in a long time there was obvious pain, on both sides. Stuart hadn't closed the gates in time, and some feelings got in.

Jeff shook his head. He cared about Stu, loved him like a brother, but there was nothing he could do to help him. Stuart was a fine man, a good man, who wanted to set things right in the world and enjoy himself while doing it, and he would get over Nina Harper. Jeff was more concerned about Nina. It seemed like she'd never had to deal with anything like this before, and he was sorry that Stu's decision was causing her pain. So when Nina finally asked, "Can I go with you?" his better judgment told him to say no, but his big heart told him to say yes.

"How soon can you be ready?" was what he actually said out loud.

"In five minutes," was the reply, as she got up from the chair and went to the bedroom. "Just got to make some repairs," she told him, and in less than five minutes she was back out.

He opened the front door for her. "After you, Nina."

She smiled at him. Not the mega-watt smile, but a small, sweet smile. "Thank you, Jeff."

She locked the door and they headed for the elevator and Ventura.


	10. Chapter 10

The Pony Caper

Chapter 10

It was a pleasant if fairly silent drive to Ventura, about halfway there Jeff finally turned on the radio. KRTH in Los Angeles was playing "All I Have to Do is Dream" by the Everly Brothers, and Nina started singing along midway through it. Next up was "Poor Little Fool" by Rick Nelson and she kept right on singing. She had a pleasant voice and the music seemed to bring her out of her depression. When they got to "It's All In The Game" she got quiet, but she resumed singing with "Peggy Sue" by Buddy Holly. There was a difference in her voice; a sadness that hadn't been there earlier. Before either one knew it they were in Ventura.

"Now to find a telephone," Jeff told her.

"Can we put that off for a while? I'm starving."

"You know now that you mention it, I could stand some lunch. How about Casa de Soria? Best Mexican food I ever tasted."

"Really, Mexican food? Dennis was a steak and potatoes man, and that's all. I've never had Mexican. Let's go."

"Well, the Ventura version of Mexican food. Okay, it's about two miles from here."

It wasn't more than five minutes when they pulled into the parking lot. Nina's mood was considerably brighter, and Jeff was feeling pretty good. It never hurt to be seen with a beautiful woman. Even if she did have an unnamed 'thing' for your partner.

They were seated and Jeff ordered Nina a Marguerita. She thought it was the best thing she'd ever tasted, and asked Jeff to order lunch for her, too. He explained tacos and burritos and enchiladas and some of the more exotic things they had, and he settled on a taco and a cheese enchilada. He ordered taquitos and a soft taco for Nina.

When the food came she got to take a bite of everything, to decide what she liked better. The soft taco and Jeff's enchilada's won. Flan completed the meal. A trip to the ladies room and they were on their way again, looking for a phone booth in a quiet spot. It wasn't long before Jeff found what he was looking for and pulled over. He put a dime in the telephone and dialed the number. It rang once, twice, three times, and then the sleepy-sounding voice of a woman answered. "Hello?"

"Hello, Kristina?"

"Yes, who's this?"

"Kristina, this is Jeff Spencer. Dennis Harper gave me your number and told me to call you. He said if anything ever happened to him to get in touch with you right away, that you're holding something for him. I came to get it."

"Does that mean Dennis . . . "

"Has passed, yes. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news." Stretching the truth about Harper's instructions seemed the best tactic to take.

"Oh, dear. Dennis was such a fine man. He helped me when I really needed the help. I do have what he left, Mr. Spencer, if you want to come pick it up."

"There's the rub, Kristina. All he left me were your name and phone number. You know how careful Dennis was. Where do you live?"

"2212 Pacific Coast Highway, in apartment C. I'm upstairs in the back. Do you know where that is?"

"Yes, ma'am. I should be there within fifteen minutes. Thank you, Kristina."

"I look forward to meeting you, Mr. Spencer."

When he got back to the car Nina had fallen back into a glum mood. "You got her? Who is she?"

"Sounds like a friend. She thought he was a fine man."

"She didn't know him very well."

Jeff took a left turn at Seminole and a right onto PCH. 2212 was about three miles down, on the right side of PCH. Jeff pulled around back and found a parking spot. "Can I come with you?"

"Absolutely not. This could be dangerous. Stay in the car until I come back." He gave Nina a stern look and hoped she would listen to him. He didn't expect any danger, but he hoped that would keep her glued to the car seat.

After he knocked on the door he heard movement inside. When the door opened he wasn't prepared for what he saw. Kristina was about Nina's age, but that's where the similarities ended. She was short, with long brown hair and brown eyes. She walked with the help of a cane, and her right leg was in a brace. "Kristina, I'm Jeff Spencer. I'm sorry to put you to any trouble."

"Come in, Mr. Spencer. For Dennis, it's no trouble." He followed her inside. The apartment was small, almost tiny, and neat as a pin. "Please, have a seat. What you came for is in the other room."

He watched her make her way carefully into what had to be the bedroom. Polio? he wondered. He heard some papers being shuffled around and when she returned she had an envelope in her hand. He stopped himself from groaning; obviously, there was another piece to this puzzle.

She gave him the envelope and sat down, exhausted with the effort. "Did Dennis tell you anything about me, Mr. Spencer?"

"Please call me Jeff. No, nothing except what I told you, with your name and phone number."

"Do you have a couple of minutes, Jeff? I'd like to tell you the story of the Dennis Harper I knew."

He didn't, but he wasn't about to tell this poor soul that he had to leave. "Certainly. Take all the time you need."

"I met Dennis at a rehabilitation facility. He'd broken his arm and I, well, you see why I was there. We used to talk after the sessions and got to know each other fairly well. I was trying to find a small apartment and Dennis offered to do the, er, legwork for me. Oh, dear," and she giggled uncontrollably for a moment. "When he found this place he brought me to see it. Believe it or not, there's an elevator around the corner, which makes life so much easier. And I loved the fact that it was small; I could keep it clean without too much trouble. It was perfect, but they wanted more security deposit than I could afford.

"What I didn't know was that Dennis paid the security deposit and the first year's rent. The whole year! Without my even knowing about it until I told them I couldn't afford it. Until he got married, he'd come by every few weeks with a car full of groceries, and anything else he thought I could use. A vacuum. A toaster. A coffee pot. After he married he sent me money. Nothing big, ten or twenty dollars here and there, just because . I tried to refuse everything but once Dennis gave you something he made sure you kept it. Until recently. He sent me this envelope, sealed, and told me someone would come for it.

"I held onto it, of course, thinking it would be Mrs. Harper that came to retrieve the envelope. But I'm glad he sent you. May Dennis rest in peace now that I've fulfilled his last wish."

The natural skeptic in Jeff wondered if Kristina's story was true. If it was, there was a side to Dennis Harper his wife didn't know. He'd withhold judgment until this pony caper was at an end. "Thank you for telling me how you knew Dennis. I hate to admit this, but he never gave me your last name. What is it?"

"Oh, that's easy," she laughed. "It's Harper." It must have been the look on Jeff's face that prompted her to explain. "No, Jeff, no relation. That's how we met actually. Harper, D. comes before Harper, K. in alphabetical order. Well, I've kept you long enough. Thank you for listening to me. It was a pleasure to meet you, Jeff."

He walked slowly down the stairs and back to the car. What a remarkable woman, and what a story. He got back to the car and got behind the wheel. Nina was patiently waiting. He handed her the envelope and told her, "This is what Kristina Harper had for us. Yes, I said Harper. No relation. Open it."

She tore it open carefully. Inside was a savings account passbook, from Wells Fargo Bank and Trust Company. There were several pages filled in, and she hurried to the last page. There was a look of shock that passed across her face, and then she handed the passbook to Jeff. The last entry read _'Balance in Account $4,185,630.72.'_


	11. Chapter 11

The Pony Caper

Chapter 11

Jeff looked closely at the passbook. Including the name on the account, Kristina Harper. Nina hadn't paid attention to the savings account passbook or she would have seen that. Or maybe she'd just seen Harper and assumed it was for her. "Nina, did you look at the name on this account?"

"No, doesn't it say Nina Harper?"

"I'm afraid not. It says Kristina Harper." Jeff handed the passbook back to her. She sat and stared for almost five minutes before she said anything.

"The bitch," she spit out with all the venom she could muster.

Jeff shook his head. "She didn't have anything to do with this. And she certainly doesn't know about it."

"How can you be so certain?"

"That young lady is quite content with her memories of Dennis, and she wouldn't begin to suspect that this exists."

Nina looked at him contemptuously. "You expect me to believe that?"

"Do you want to go upstairs and meet her? I think five minutes with her would convince you."

"No. I want to go home. Let Stuart figure out what I do now."

"It's not his fault either, Nina. Dennis did this all by himself, and I think his motives were innocent."

"Take me home," she practically ordered again, and Jeff complied. Sort of. Actually, he headed to the office. She might not want to talk to Stu, but he did; he needed to. Sometimes just talking to his partner and friend helped him work things out, and he thought this would be one of those times.

The ride back to Hollywood, unlike the ride to Venture, had no songs on the radio to help break the silence that enveloped them. Nina was unhappy, and that was easy to see. But she was more than unhappy, she was . . . pissed. Not a single word was spoken by either of them, until he turned into the valet parking at Dino's.

"What are we doing here?" she demanded as Kookie approached her door.

"Welcome back, Kookie," Jeff addressed the car hop first.

"Hey, nice to see you, dad," Kookie wisecracked.

"Who's this clown?" Nina was indeed in a foul mood. "And what are we doing here?" she repeated.

Before Kookie could say anything, Jeff grabbed Nina by the elbow and rushed her into the entrance to 77 Sunset Strip. "Let go of me, you bastard," she hissed at Jeff as she shook loose of his grip.

Suzanne glanced up with a look of shock on her face as they entered the suite that Bailey & Spencer occupied. "Please, Mrs. Harper, control your language," Jeff told her, and she seemed to calm down a bit. He opened the door to his office and waved her in. As soon as she was seated he turned to their receptionist. "Sorry, Suzanne, she's really upset. Is Stu in?"

"Yes, he is Jeff. Go on in."

And without further ceremony, that's what he did.

XXXXXXXX

Stu seemed to be in a better mood, at least until Jeff mentioned Nina. Stu stopped him before he could get much further than her name. "I told you that I no longer wanted to be involved with Nina Harper, Jeff."

"I know you did, Stu, but circumstances have changed. She – "

"I don't care what she did, or what she said, or how she looked . . . " Stu stopped abruptly and put his head in his hands. "Why won't this go away?" he asked plaintively.

"You're not dealing with logic, Stu. You're dealing with emotions. Whole different kettle of fish."

Stu chuckled and looked at his partner. "Sometimes you surprise me, Jeff. You've gotten to be quite wise."

"Can you listen to me now? I really need your help."

"Go ahead."

For the next few minutes, Jeff told the whole story. Stuart listened, wincing occasionally, but paying close attention. When Jeff was finished, Stu had a question for him. "Where's the passbook now?"

"Nina has it."

"Is she in your office?" was the follow-up.

"Sure. Do you want me to get the passbook?"

"Yes, if she'll turn loose of it."

Jeff went back to his office, which was suddenly empty. He went out to see if Suzanne knew where she was.

"She said to tell you she had to apologize to Kookie."

Jeff found the two of them talking. Kookie looked up and grinned. "Hey, your chick gets me, dad."

"That might be a first, Kookie." He turned his attention to Nina. "Do you have the passbook? Stu wants to see it."

"Is he talking to you? Or me?"

"Me at the moment, Nina. Sorry."

She looked pained. "It's alright, Jeff. That's what I figured."

Kookie jumped in. "You gotta catch me up, dad. I think there's something here I missed."

Jeff nodded. "There is, Kookie, but I'll tell you later. And don't ask Stu."

Nina handed Jeff the passbook and he took it back to Stu. The detective examined it closely before looking up at Spencer. "And you're sure Kristina doesn't know anything about this?"

"Positive. What do you think?"

"To tell you the truth? I don't think Nina's got a leg to stand on. There's no way to prove where this money came from. And the majority of the deposits support Charlie Sutton's claim that Dennis was lucky with the ponies."

"What do you think we should do?"

"If it were me, Jeff, I'd go back up to Ventura and introduce Mrs. Harper to Miss Harper. Explain the whole situation and see what happens. If Kristina is the kind of woman you think she is, she'll probably offer some of it to Nina. If she isn't . . . "

"Then Nina's on her own with Gallo and Sol. Stu, could I persuade you to go with me?"

Jeff's answer was a cold stare. "I didn't think so. Well, I guess I better go give Nina the bad news."

Spencer was trying to think of a way to make Nina laugh about her choice when he came up with one. She was still outside with Kookie and as he approached them she turned to ask quizzically, "Well?"

"Stu said you've got two choices: You can show Kristina the passbook and explain the fix you're in, or you can show Kristina the passbook and explain the fix you're in."

"Very funny, dad. I bet that one was yours and not Stu's," Kookie guessed.

"You're right, Kookie. But you only have one choice, Nina."

Nina stared down at the ground for a minute. "Alright, Jeff. What time?"

"Ten o'clock again?"

"Ten o'clock it is, and we can take my T-bird."

Jeff nodded. "Sounds good. I'll be there at ten. Kookie, can you take Nina back to Beverly Hills?"

Kookie grinned. "Sure, dad. Miss Nina, how about a lift home?"

Nina sighed. "Tell your partner that when this is all settled, I want to talk to him."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright, I'll tell him. See you tomorrow at ten."

"Ciao."


	12. Chapter 12

The Pony Caper

Chapter 12

"Didn't we just do this yesterday?" Jeff asked when Nina answered his knock on the door.

"Yes, but this time I'm ready to go," was her reply.

And today she didn't look like she was in mourning. She had on a short-sleeved, floral summer dress and makeup. And her eyes weren't red. By the time they got downstairs to the T-Bird she had a sort of half-smile on her face. "Can we stop at that place we went to yesterday for lunch?"

"You mean Casa de Soria? Sure, that's alright with me if it's alright with you."

She nodded. "Everything was delicious, and this might be my only chance to go back."

They chatted most of the way to Ventura, and Jeff lent an attentive ear when she talked about her 'friendship' with Stu. After the men she'd been married to, Stu Bailey must have seemed like the perfect man. Nice, polite, courtly, a true gentleman, and handsome to boot. Jeff understood the attraction a lot better now. But what had Stu gotten from the relationship? True, Nina was beautiful, but Stu had dated a lot of beautiful women. She was smart, he'd give her that. But what was it that sparked such a deep reaction from his partner? Before he could come up with an answer, they were at the restaurant.

This time Nina ordered for herself, a Marguerita and two cheese enchiladas. The talk turned to Kristina, with Nina wanting to know everything about the girl that Jeff could tell her. He did not divulge the leg brace. He thought that was something Nina needed to see rather than hear about.

When lunch was over they drove back to Kristina's apartment. Jeff went upstairs alone and knocked on Kristina's door. She was surprised, to say the least. "What are you doing back here today?"

"I have someone that wants to talk to you. It's Nina Harper, Dennis' widow. Will you see her?"

"Why does she want to talk to me?" Kristina asked.

"I'd rather let her tell you that."

"Alright, ask her to come in." Kristina didn't sound very happy about it, but her mood was soon to change.

Jeff opened the door for Nina to come in. "Mrs. Harper, meet Miss Harper."

Nina couldn't hide her reaction when she saw the cane and the brace on Kristina's leg. Nevertheless, she entered the apartment, and Jeff left. This was something the two of them had to work out. He went back downstairs and sat in the T-bird. Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty, then Jeff closed his eyes and fell asleep. Fifty-five minutes later Nina opened the car door and woke him up.

"All settled?"

"All settled," was her reply.

"Are we going back to Beverly Hills?" Since Jeff was driving, he wanted to know where to go.

"Yes, sir. But I'd like you to come in for a minute when we get there." Nina seemed to be in a much better mood than when she went inside Kristina's apartment, but she didn't say why or do any explaining. Jeff parked the car and followed her up in the elevator. When they got inside she asked him, "It's almost five o'clock, would you like a drink?"

"No, thanks. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Kristina and I have worked out a deal that benefits both of us. We would like you to meet us inside the Wells Fargo Bank at 3362 Hollywood Boulevard at 2 o'clock tomorrow afternoon. We'll explain everything then."

It was mysterious, but Jeff knew that was the only way he was going to get an answer. "Alright. I'll be there."

"Jeff, I want you to know that I appreciate your stepping in and handling everything after Stu and I – well, after Stu and I couldn't work together anymore. I'll need an invoice so that I can pay your firm – and proof of the expenses. Would you get that to me as soon as possible?"

"I'll take care of it, Nina. Is there anything else before I go?"

"No, not right now. I'll see you at 2 o'clock tomorrow, Jeff. And thanks again."

He got in his car and drove back to the office. He didn't have any idea what the women had worked out, and he wasn't going to find out until tomorrow afternoon. How had he been so lucky as to get put on this case? Oh yeah, now he remembered. Stuart Bailey fell in love.

XXXXXXXX

By the time he got to the Wells Fargo Bank on Hollywood Boulevard it was ten minutes after two. He hadn't intended to be late, but he'd gotten stuck on a phone call and couldn't wrap it up any faster. He'd hoped to be able to present Nina with the Bailey and Spencer bill, but Stu hadn't finished with his part of the invoice.

He parked and went inside, and it took but a minute to spot the two Harper women . . . Nina and Kristina. One tall and blonde, the other small and brown-haired. They both smiled at him. "Hello, ladies. How are you today?"

"We're spectacular, Jeff. We wanted you here in case the bank manager has a problem with what we want to do," Nina told him.

"Which is?" he asked, curious to see what they'd come up with.

"We want cashier checks for $675,000.00 to Stan Gallo, and $18,000.00 to Sol Epstein. Then we want the remainder divided into two equal amounts and transferred to our own banks. Mine's Bank of America, Kristina's is First National Bank of Ventura. We have the account numbers, and the banks are expecting the funds."

Jeff was astounded. He would never have come up with their division of the funds. Stu might have, but Jeff wouldn't. "That's awfully generous of you, Kristina. How did you two come up with the settlement?"

"It was simple, actually," Kristina explained. "Dennis borrowed money from Mr. Gallo, and he owed for diamonds to Mr. Epstein. That wasn't Dennis' money, so we wanted them paid back."

"And Kristina was generous enough to split the rest with me."

"I've got over a million and a half dollars, thanks to Dennis. I couldn't spend that much in three lifetimes. I got the best of Dennis Harper, Nina got the worst. I think it's only fair that I share what's left with Nina. And that's what makes me happy."

"And it makes me happy, too. I've got the debts he owed paid, and a tidy little sum for me. So as soon as you present me with a bill, I'll have more than enough to pay that."

Jeff chuckled happily. "That's a perfect solution. I'm proud of you both. Did you drive to Ventura to get Kristina? Was that the reason for the two o'clock meeting?"

"Exactly. I picked her up in a T-bird, but I'm sending her home in a limousine."

"Well, Kristina, now that you're a wealthy woman, are you going to find a bigger apartment?"

Kristina laughed so hard she almost fell over. "Oh, goodness no. My apartment is just perfect. But I do have one indulgence in mind. I'm going to get a cat."

"Me, too," said Nina.

Jeff thought that was perfect. "Alright ladies, let's get this party started. Pick a teller, any teller."

Thus began one of the strangest transactions in Wells Fargo's history.

_tbc_


	13. Chapter 13

The Pony Caper

Chapter 13

A week passed and there was no sign of Nina Harper. Stuart finally finished his accounting for the time he'd spent with Nina and Jeff had the invoice prepared. The check was sent over by courier the next day. Jeff kept expecting Nina herself to turn up for her requested talk with Stu, but so far that hadn't happened.

Another week went by and still no Nina. Sol called Stuart when he received the cashier's check, but that was all anyone heard of her. Stu was more like his old self with every passing day, and he and Jeff resumed going out of an evening with the latest in a long string of beautiful girls. Then, one afternoon when everyone had almost forgotten about her, Nina Harper swept in like a typhoon. She was drop-dead gorgeous and dressed to the nines. What's more, she was smiling and happy.

"Is Stuart in, Suzanne?"

"Yes, he is." Suzanne buzzed him. "Stuart, Nina Harper is here to see you." She nodded her head and turned to Nina. "He said to go on in."

"Thank you."

Nina swept past Roscoe, who was standing in the outer office with his mouth open. "My my my, that is some filly."

The door to Stu's office was closed for almost an hour. Jeff was expecting to hear shouting and cursing from the room, but he heard neither one. Not even the sound of objects crashing into the wall. He had an appointment at a client's office and had to leave, and when he returned Nina was already gone. So was Stuart.

"What happened, Suzanne?" Jeff pleaded.

"Nothing much. Nina was in there for about ninety minutes, but when she came out she was smiling. She kissed Stu on the cheek, wished him well, and said goodbye to Roscoe and me. Not five minutes later Stuart left, and told me he's at Dino's."

"So the plane lifted off without the engines failing?"

Roscoe answered that one. "The favorite won by a nose in the seventh race."

Jeff nodded and headed back out the door, straight for Dino's. He found Stu at a back booth, nursing a scotch but looking none the worse for having survived Typhoon Nina.

"How'd it go, Stu?"

"I've had better afternoon's, Jeff, but I've had worse, too. I'm glad she waited two weeks before coming in . . . it gave us both some perspective."

"Enough perspective to having learned something from it?" Jeff was hoping the answer was yes.

"Oh, probably not. But at least we could speak to each other like civil human-beings."

"How is she?" There was a tone in Jeff's voice that couldn't be denied.

"So she got to you too, huh?"

"Kind of hard not to, Stu."

Bailey took a drink and set the glass back down. He nodded his head in agreement. "Agreed. But she's even harder to forget."

"Is that what you want to do?"

Stu heaved a big sigh. "More than anything in the world."

XXXXXXXX

The moment Suzanne buzzed the intercom, he knew. His stomach clenched in tight little knots when he heard the words, "Stuart, Nina Harper is here to see you."

"Send her in, Suzanne."

Typhoon Nina blew in, and she took his breath away. Even after trying to fight the feelings into submission for two weeks, she could still have that effect on him. The difference now, small as it may be, was that he had some control over it.

Her hair was different, shorter and blonder, and she had on a white dress that fit like skin. It took every ounce of strength he had to say, casually, "Hello, Nina."

"Hello Stuart. How are you?"

"Oh, pretty good actually. And yourself?"

"I'm doing fine. I've been busy redecorating the penthouse. Everything different, from top to bottom. I even got rid of the carpet and put hardwood in."

"Did you get your cat yet?"

She smiled at the question. "Jeff told you, did he? No, actually, I changed my mind and got a dog. The cutest little Cairn Terrier you've ever seen. Her name is Sophie. Considering that I was getting all new furniture, I thought I'd be better off with a dog. Besides, I'll get outside more with her. I'm trying to make changes in my life that will benefit Sophie and me. You know, you get to a place in your life where that becomes necessary. And good, too."

"I know the feeling, Nina. But the changes you make don't always work out for the better."

"Now Stuart, are you talking about a pet or you and me?" She asked the question with a tremor in her voice.

"Both, I guess." Stu had been fiddling with something on his desk to keep his eyes averted, but it was time to look at her. It was sheer torture. "What are you going to do when you're done redecorating?"

"Ah, then I'll hire a limo and bring Kristina down for a weekend. There's a doctor down here in Beverly Hills that I want her to see. And to meet Sophie."

"You two have gotten to be friends, I take it."

"Quite good friends, actually. She's shown me a side of Dennis that I never knew existed, and I'm the better for changing my opinion of him, I think. Sometimes a change of opinion is as good as new furniture."

A small laugh escaped him. "I'll have to take your word for it."

Nina got up and walked over to his window. Her back was to him. "Look, Stuart, we've done as much dancing around the issue as we can do. Let's face it, we don't want to talk about the elephant in the room . . . you and me and what happened."

"Nothing happened, Nina."

She turned away from the window and leaned on his desk. She was so close that he wanted to reach out and touch her. He restrained himself.

"That's not true, and you know it."

Maybe it would be best if he faced this head on. "Alright, something happened. But nothing can come of it, and I know that."

"Why not, Stuart? Are you telling me you can't love two things at the same time? Or are you telling me that between the agency and me, I would always come second?"

Now it was Stuart's turn to stall until he knew exactly how to answer her. He got up and opened his bar, pouring himself a glass of seltzer water. "Something to drink?" he asked Nina.

She shook her head. "No, thank you. What about it, Stuart?"

He went back to his desk and sat down. Maybe she would understand. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you. You would always come second."

She sat back down and groaned. After a moment she responded. "Well, at least you're honest about it."

"It has to be that way, Nina. I worked hard to get the agency to where it is. It wouldn't be fair to a woman – any woman – to put her second. Don't you see, I had to put an end to it, even though it was just beginning. You deserve to be first, and I just couldn't give you that."

"So you just walk away, without any scars?"

He shook his head. She still didn't know him as well as she thought. "Oh, I have scars. Plenty of scars. I've learned the fine art of concealment. If you thought I could walk away from you without any scars, you're wrong."

Nina gazed out of the window until she spoke again. "Answer a question for me."

"If I can."

"Could you have loved me? I mean, under different circumstances, could you have loved me?"

There was pain in his voice when he answered her. He had to tell her yes, he could have loved her, but he couldn't tell her he already did. "Yes."

"And this is a final decision; you won't be changing your mind somewhere down the road?"

"It's a final decision."

She stared down at her hands for what seemed like forever. When she looked up tears were running down her cheeks, and she pulled a tissue from her purse and wiped them away. Stu's eyes were dry.

"Thank you for that. Telling me you could have had feelings for me. I'll hang onto it."

He just sat there and looked at her. She didn't realize his heart was breaking, just like hers. When she'd composed herself she stood up. "Well, goodbye, Stuart. I hope you and the agency are very happy together."

"Nina . . . "

"Yes?" she asked, hopefully.

"Take care of yourself."

"Thanks, you too."

He followed her to the doorway of his office; she put on a big smile and kissed his cheek. "I wish you nothing but the best, Stuart."

And she was gone.

XXXXXXXX

Stu got very quiet, and Jeff realized he was finished speaking. They both had fresh drinks, and Jeff raised his glass in a toast. "To Nina Harper, and the close of The Pony Caper."

Stu clinked raised glasses with his partner. "To Nina Harper."

_the end_


End file.
